New Deep
by permanentsmile
Summary: Post war. Lucy Geller returns to Hogwarts for her Seventh year and decides to do something about her crush on her surly Potions master, who is still trying to recover from the war. SS/OC. AR / OOC Snape. Citrusy. WAFF with slight humor.
1. Prologue

Since I was a little girl, something that amazed me more than the wonders of the world that I lived in were the people that inhabited it. I had witnessed, literally my whole life, all of the different kinds of evil that it had to offer. Whether it had been someone ripping off my beloved father from a deal they had promised him, to someone bullying my younger brother at school, to the most ugly kind of evil that our world had witnessed in its darkest times.

In the midst of evil, however, there is always someone that is a hero to another person. The world I lived in had an infant as their savior to make the darkness temporarily bright. When that baby grew into a man, he had rid the world from the most hateful person it had ever seen for good. While he may have had the power to do so, he also had help from some of the bravest people of our kind.

Whether it's the darkest times, or even the brightest moments in life, there would always be a hero for someone, even if it took years for one to see them. Sometimes it took devastation and destruction to reveal one's true colors. Sometimes someone you thought was heroic ended up being the villain from your childhood nightmares.

Then sometimes...the ones you never believed in surprise you for the better, and finally show their inner lion. The ones you thought to be the most cruel people on the planet ended up being the unsung hero of the day, or your lifetime. Most of my peers feared the man that ended up playing a role in saving us all from a reign that would change our lives for the worse, thinking him to be the scum of the earth before the war. I, however, took to his defense when others would say the most vile things about him.

This man...was my teacher, my brave hero, and the love of my life. He just didn't know it at the time.

The sun, bright and warm, illuminated the most brilliant shade of forget-me-not blue that I had seen in years. Not a cloud was in a sky which, mind you, was a rare thing to see in England. For a little over a week straight, there was not a cloud across Britain. Just clear, hope-filled skies that reflected the souls of the magical world and our recent end of a dark era, and the dawning of a beautiful new beginning.

Harry Potter, only seventeen years old at the time, had defeated Lord Voldemort, for the final time to free all of us from his takeover, over a week ago. The Dark Lord was the most evil wizard in our recorded history, and to finally see light in the endless dark tunnel...it seemed too good to be true. Of course, Harry did have help from many witches and wizards along the way, and many did die trying to protect him and the rest of our world.

There were endless celebrations across Britain, all in honor of Harry Potter and those that had lost their lives in Battle. Pubs were filled with wizards and witches, toasting to Harry and the fall of the Dark Lord for the last time. They drank to their deceased loved ones, crying tears of both joy and sorrow.

Those that had fallen during the Final Battle were honoured like those surviving them, and those that had faced life-threatening injuries were recovering with optimism, even if some of their injuries would have had no hope before. Many were laid to rest under the setting sun, all those that attended with their wands in the air, sending their soul skyward to be freed from the agony they had faced in their lives, and as a proper thank you for giving their own life to protect many more of the innocent and helpless.

In the midst of all of the glory and all of the pain, I felt complete relief that those that I cared for had survived the Final Battle. One of my closest friends fought alongside Harry Potter and had witnessed the life being taken away from one of the most important people in my life - thankfully, she was one of the brightest and most talented witches of our generation, and had managed to save him before it was too late. For that, I owed her my whole life.

Hermione Granger, the brilliant witch, had only made contact with me twice via owl and patronus since the battle ended and we had parted. The last time I had seen her was in the Great Hall of our school, Hogwarts, just shortly after it was announced that the Dark Lord was dead. I would never forget the scene... countless people that we had gone to school with laid before our very eyes, dead. Alex, my younger brother, was devastated by the loss of his fellow Fourth Year Housemate and friend named Trynt Garson.

We were given orders by Harry Potter himself to leave the Castle and to go home. Being seventeen at the time, but still in my sixth year due to being born so late in the year, I was able to apparate my brother and myself back home in Clavering, Essex while our friends remained in Scotland.

I was walking down the dirty, busy streets of London with my boyfriend of two months, Robbie, close by and a wrapped parcel tucked under my arm. Being in Muggle (non-magical people) London, we didn't wear our wizarding cloaks so we wouldn't draw attention. We arrived at our intended destination: Purge and Dowse Ltd. Well, it was mine, anyway. Robbie was more fixated on going to Diagon Alley, which was a bit of a distance away.

"Lucy, you _know_ that I'm about to try out for England!" Robbie whispered to me as we walked alongside the building through a dirty alleyway. "I've got to visit _Quality Quidditch Supplies _to get a new racing broom! My _Nimbus Two-Thousand and One _just ain't cutting it anymore."

"Later," I said in a slightly annoyed voice.

Robbie had already completed his education at Hogwarts and, at age eighteen, was planning to play Quidditch for England. He was the Ravenclaw House Beater since his Third year at school, and he was very good. I was never too big into Quidditch, but I did occasionally attend a game if I knew someone that was playing.

"What'd you buy for him, anyway? I thought he hated you," Robbie said as he tried to grab the package from under my arm.

I jerked it away from him and hugged the rectangular gift to my chest.

"It's a book, Robbie. It's a 'Get Well' gift that I thought he'd like."

Robbie rolled his icy blue eyes.

"He doesn't like anything, Luc! The old dungeon bat'll probably use it to wipe his greasy hands on after he itches that oil well of a head..."

My blood was boiling as we reached the front display window of the old, broken-down building. Robbie could get like that sometimes (or...often...), so I just ignored him when he was being childish.

"How do we even know that he's here?" Robbie questioned as I stared at the dummy with long, peeling eyelashes that wore a hideous green dress.

"Hermione told me," I said quietly as I quickly glanced around at the muggle shoppers that didn't even give us a glance.

"Well, before we see the git, can we see my nan real quick? I haven't seen her since I was about twelve, but she might like the company..."

"Alright, alright," I muttered as I turned toward the glass again. "What's her name?"

"Edna Springfield."

"We're here to see Edna Springfield," I said quietly.

There was a short pause before the dummy nodded. It reached forward and took hold of Robbie and me and pulled us through the glass, making us appear in the front reception area of a waiting room, which was quite crowded for a Thursday afternoon. I paid no attention to the witches and wizards that had managed to do some sort of strange disfigurement to themselves, or to those that were blowing odd shades of purple snot out of their noses.

"Where would she be?" I asked as I looked up at the floor guide.

"Spell Damage - Fourth Floor," said Robbie as he led me through the double doors that were a few feet from the receptionist desk, which was currently being taken up by a young witch with an arm growing out of her head.

We climbed four flights of stairs, then made our way down the hall and stopped at the second to last door on the right: Ward Forty-Five.

Robbie knocked twice, then went inside; I followed him closely behind, peering over his shoulder as we entered quietly. A very small, slightly shriveled witch was sitting on a bed with a licorice wand in her hand, attempting to bewitch teacups and bedpans.

"Hi, Nan. How are yeh?" Robbie asked as he closed the door behind us.

The elderly witch, who I thought appeared to be at least a hundred, looked up at him with wide, unnaturally light blue eyes.

"Eh?" she muttered as she stared at us. "Oliver? Is that you?"

"She once had the holy hell hexed out of her when I was a kid. Lost her marbles, so we stuck her in here," Robbie muttered to me. "No, Nan. It's me, your grandson, Robbie."

"Bobby?" she questioned as he stared at him with those puppet-like hollow eyes.

"_Robbie_," he said in a louder, clearer voice.

"Robbie? Are you the son of the shit-ass gamekeeper that wants to take my Galleons for a cheap night? _Dream on_!"

I was...well, not fully surprised, but just sort of put-off by her kind words. It was a touching moment to see this grandmum and grandson get reaquainted with each other, really.

Robbie didn't seemed surprised. In fact, he didn't seem to care at all.

"Meh, she don't remember me. Let's go see the dungeon git so we can get out of here. I hate this place." He forced a toothy grin at his grandmum.

"Bye, Nan. See yeh in six years."

"Tell Jimmy that he needs to fix a better cup of tea! Last time I had to use Fire Whiskey as a chaser to wash that horrid shit out of my mouth." She muttered some nonsense under her breath, seeming to think that it was going to bewitch a lonely piece of cheese that rested next to a chipped teacup on her nightstand.

We left her room and made our way down to the ground floor to ask the receptionist where we were supposed to go.

"First floor - Creature-Induced Injuries. He's in Ward ten," she said in a bored tone. "Next!"

We made our way back up the steps, Robbie complaining the whole way about how he was getting hungry and wanted some of the hospital's steak and kidney pie.

I ignored him because...well...he was just a pain in my ass that day.

I tapped on the door before slowly entering the ward, bracing myself for what we would see. A Healer was looming over his patient, updating his chart while bandages wrapped themselves around the injured neck of the unconscious man.

The Healer looked up from his chart and raised his eyebrows, seeming to be surprised.

"Hullo. Wasn' expectin' anyone. Haven' seen a visitor in 'ear since this poor bloke got 'ear. 'Ave a seat. Whazzat?" He pointed at the package I still had tucked under my arm with the end of his red quill.

"It's a book - a 'Get Well' gift for him," I said as I handed it over to the Healer.

"Lemme 'ave a look. I'm sure it ain't anythin' dang'rous, but y'know the rules..." he muttered as he opened the package to examin the Potions book.

"I've bin try'na get me hands on this fer a bit! 'Choo find it?" he asked as he flipped through the pages.

"Had a friend owl it to me. The Apothecary in Diagon Alley's supposed to be getting copies next month," I informed him as Robbie leaned against the wall, looking bored.

"Oy, lucky bloke, this one... I'll keep me eyes out. 'Ear yeh be. Sorry for undoin' the wrappin's. Lemme fix that." He pulled out his wand and gave it a quick wave over the package, which instantly wrapped itself, looking as though it'd never been touched. "'Ave a nice day. Doubt 'e'll be wakin' anytime soon, though..."

"You too," I said, watching the Healer leave the room.

Once the door closed, I conjured a wooden chair and sat next to my Potions teacher, who seemed almost innocent as he laid there, seeming to have more color to him in that condition than I'd seen during my six years at Hogwarts.

"So, you've seen him, you've dropped off the package. Wanna get outta this place?" Robbie asked as he snooped around the room.

I turned my gaze onto Robbie, giving him a dull look.

"We just got here! Besides, you heard what that Healer said, we're the only ones that have visited him since he's gotten here." My hazel eyes shifted back to the man Robbie used to run away from with fear in his veins.

"For a Slytherin, you sure act like a Hufflepuff," he murmured as he stared out the window.

I ignored him and lowered my gaze to our unconscious teacher, who probably hadn't a clue what was going on or what great he had done for us. There was so much that I wanted to say to him, but couldn't. Especially with Robbie in the room.

After about half an hour had passed of me watching the Potions master, Robbie got fed up and made his way toward the door.

"I'm starving. I'm going to go get some food, so come out when you're done staring at the bat like he's a zoo creature." Robbie left, slamming the door behind him, which surprisingly didn't wake our professor.

I sighed as I stared at him. His skin was still pale, but didn't have the unhealthy grayish complexion that it once had. It was more of a milky glow, making him look more alive. Perhaps, in his coma, he was more at peace? His black, shoulder-length hair was the cleanest I'd ever seen it - it was shiny, and looked as healthy as his skin. He was wearing a white hospital dressing gown, which was a change of pace since I was used to only seeing him wearing black teaching robes.

"Professor? I don't know if you can hear me, but... I hope you get better soon. And I hope, after they rebuild the school, that you'll continue to teach. You're brilliant and there needs to be more teachers in the world like you. And no, I'm not trying to suck up." I smiled weakly at him, imagining all of the insults he'd be hurling at me if he had been hearing me speak. I slowly frowned.

"Professor, I just want to say...on behalf of the entire wizarding world... I'm sorry for the way you've been treated. Everything you've been through must have been terrifying and so lonely. But now, the Dark Lord is gone. You're _free_. You don't have to be an espionage anymore."

Hesitating, even though I knew he wouldn't know it, I reached forward and took hold of his much larger hand. His skin was rough with scratches and bruises. For a moment, just a miniscule of a second, I thought I felt his hand twitch.

"I got you a little gift... I figured you'd probably be bored in here once you wake up. Of course, you could always harrass the Healers..." I snickered. "But for the first week or two you might want to be less snarky with them."

He remained still as a board, looking so innocent. It was heartbreaking.

A few minutes passed in silence, and I continued to hold onto his hand. Finally, I looked around the room and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'll go now. If you can hear me...you're probably annoyed and forcing yourself to stay asleep for a little while longer. ...and you're probably calling me a 'dunderhead.'" I smiled weakly again, then stood up and pulled my wand out of my pocket and gave it a quick wave, making the chair disappear.

"I don't know when or if I'll be able to come back... But I hope I'll see you soon, and I'd prefer it if you were awake."

I pocketed my wand and hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should dare to do what I'd been wanting to do since I was twelve years old.

_He won't know_, I thought. _It's safe. He won't hex the hell out of me or anything..._

Slowly, in case he woke up (which seemed highly unlikely), I leaned down by his ear and rested my forehead against his temple.

"I appreciate everything you've done to protect us and save us from the Dark Lord. You're a true hero, even if you don't want to be recognized as one." I took my hand off of his and rested it on his bruised, scratched cheek. "Thank you...Severus Snape."

I lifted my head up enough to leave a soft kiss on his cheek, hoping he wouldn't know about it so he'd have a reason to curse me.

As my lips left his cheek, I felt something grab my hand. I pulled back and looked down at him, only to see him staring back up at me with those hauntingly dark eyes, weakly holding onto my hand that cupped his cheek. I swallowed hard, afraid of his reaction and what he could have been thinking.

"H-Hi," I whispered, feeling like someone had dumped a thousand butterflies into my stomach.

He parted his dry lips and made an odd grunting noise, like he was trying to form words. He closed his mouth after a few failed attempts and continued to stare at me in his glassy trance. Slowly, his eyes rolled a bit and he was out again, his hand losing whatever weak hold it had on mine, and fell back down to his side. His chest slowly rised and fell with each breath he took, looking peaceful once again.


	2. One Year Later

_One Year Later_

"You're sure you wanna do this? Yeh don't have to go back, y'know. You're old enough and don't necessarily need your N.E.W.T.S. ..." my dad said as we were parting on Platform Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross Station in London.

"Dad, you _know_ that in order for me to get any _decent_ jobs I'll need my N.E.W.T.S. Besides, I'm curious to see how the castle looks. Took 'em a whole year to rebuild it! Surprised it didn't take longer..."

"Speaking as someone that volunteered two summers of helping, it'd better be done by now. Merlin, that job was a right pain in me bum." Dad grinned, the lines in the corners of his hazel eyes deepening.

"All right, Luc? Haven't seen you in ages! You look good," said a Sixth year Gryffindor girl that would have been in her Seventh had the school not been shut down for a year to be rebuilt.

"Nice to see you again, Stella." I smiled politely at her, then turned back to my father, who was watching my younger brother mingle with a few friends that had spent a great portion of the past summer at our house in Clavering.

"Y'know you got a couple of new teachers, right?" said Dad.

"Yeah. I heard that Professor McGonagall didn't want to teach Transfiguration and run the school at the same time, and it wouldn't be a new year at Hogwarts if we didn't have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher..."

Dad chuckled.

"I know who it is," he taunted.

"Who?" I raised my eyebrows.

He grinned. "Prepare yourself, daughter. You'll be excited."

"Who is it? Peeves?" I snickered, recalling the meddlesome poltregiest that existed purely to annoy the students and staff members of the castle.

"No... He'd make a good teacher though, wouldn't he?" Dad smiled - he did always have a good sense of humor. "Professor Lupin's coming back. Apparently there was some sort of agreement made...I dunno the details."

I smiled, feeling quite happy to hear the news. There was still one question in mind...

"Dad, d'ya know if Professor Snape is going to teach?" I asked quietly as I glanced at Alex, my younger brother, who was having his dark hair ruffled by his friend's dad.

"No. I haven't heard anything about Professor Snape returning. Nobody really knows much about him these days. Seems to be keeping quiet... Probably sick of people butting into his personal life."

Over the previous summer, Professor Snape had been making quite a few appearances in the _Daily Prophet_ in regards to his trial. He had barely made a full recovery when those Ministry bastards immediately tore at him for his work as a Death Eater, even if he was on our side and helped saved the whole wizarding world. The only things that allowed him to escape a sentence in Azkaban were Dumbledore's pensieve and several witnesses coming to his defense. He walked away with a nine-hundred Galleon fine and a slap on the wrist.

"I don't blame him. I feel so bad for him..." I said quietly, looking down at our feet.

I felt my father's eyes on me.

"Something tells me that's not all you feel for him." He snickered.

"Father..." I muttered.

"I didn't say anything! Anyway, the train's about to leave. You'd better get on board." He pulled me into a hug.

"Alright. Bye, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too, gorgeous. Oh - one more thing... Why isn't Robbie here to send you off?" He pulled back from our hug and rubbed my shoulders as he stared down at me.

"He's training. He sent me an owl this morning, going on about how a Bludger nearly broke his arm yesterday..."

Dad rolled his eyes. "How he's playing for England is beyond me..."

"Dad! He's not _that_ bad."

"I'm sure he's alright and all... He's just a bit of a twit." He grinned.

I smiled a bit. "Well, that's true..."

After boarding the train, I changed into my robes at once so I wouldn't have to later. I got an empty compartment and sighed as the train moved, carrying all of us off to the newly rebuilt Hogwarts. I felt nervous, excited, and slightly depressed at the thought of returning. I had missed it there, even if it was scary at times.

The compartment door slid open to reveal Alex, who was changed into his robes as well. The difference between our robes, aside from the sizes (his being longer due to him being about four inches taller than me), were the crests on our chests. Mine had a silver snake to represent Slytherin House, while his had a silver eagle to represent Ravenclaw House. Our family, which had been strictly Pure-blood until a few of our mother's and father's siblings had married some Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, were mostly Ravenclaws and Gryffindors (with the occasional Hufflepuff). I was the first one to be sorted into Slytherin in six generations. Well, six on our father's side - it was unknown about our mother's.

My family was certainly more pleased about my brother getting into Ravenclaw than they were with me being sorted into Slytherin. They weren't ashamed, just...not too enthusiastic. Understandable, because Slytherin did have a bad reputation for turning out a lot of Dark wizards. Little did my family know, I had a strong interest in the Dark Arts (nothing that would push me over to the Dark Lord's side, but...) - in fact, hardly anyone knew. The only person that knew about my fixation on Dark Magic was my friend and fellow Slytherin Housemate named Samantha O'Hara, who was in my year.

"Nervous?" Alex asked as he closed the door behind himself and took a seat across from me.

Alex was quite a handsome boy, to be honest. His wavy, dark brown hair was short and always slightly messy. At age sixteen, he was five foot eight and still growing, and his thin frame was beginning to fill out so he looked less lanky. Since he was very young, I had always noticed a resemblence between him and our older cousin named Bane, who was also a Ravenclaw student during his days at Hogwarts.

"Slightly. Are you?" I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable, trying to keep my nerves as calm as possible.

"Well...a bit. I mean, I've been studying the past year and stuff, but it's just... wh-when You-Know-Who was really gaining power and the battle happened, I just kinda thought that was it - no more Hogwarts. When you apparated us back home, I thought it was going to be the last time I'd ever see the castle. Going back now is just surreal and I...I can't fathom all of it." He narrowed his almond-shaped eyes (a feature a father passed on to both of us, color and all) at the compartment door.

"I understand how you feel. It was a scary time for all of us. The best thing for everyone to do is just try to move on and make the most out of what we're given."

He turned his head forward and faced me again.

"How'd you end up in Slytherin, Luc? I swear, you're too nice to be in that House."

"Not all Slytherins are bad," I said coolly. "Most just do it for show. Y'know Draco Malfoy? All talk. I saw him in the common room in my third year with Crabbe and Goyle, and y'know what they were doing? Eating cauldron cakes and sipping tea, going on about how they think Flitwick's a good teacher. ...well, Draco was; Crabbe and Goyle just nodded along because they're stupid."

Alex laughed.

"Draco the-flaming-git Malfoy? Serious?"

"Serious!" I smiled at him. "Never judge a book by its cover."

He smiled at me, his crooked left canine tooth more visible than usual.

"I'm going to go find some of the boys. You alright on your own?"

"Of course. Tell them I said 'hullo' and I hope they're well." I reached into my black messenger bag and pulled out my Potions book.

"Will do. See you later, sis."

Alex got up from his seat and left quickly, the ends of his robes nearly getting caught when the door shut. I snickered quietly and flipped through some of the pages.

"You'll have to work on your grace, Alex..." I muttered as my eyes wandered over to a section dedicated to Amoratentia.

Over the past summer, Alex had gained an interest in working for the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable. Of course, nobody knew what they did, and the pamphlet that our mother had brought home from work (she worked as an Obliviator for the Ministry of Magic) was nothing short of useless. The only thing the pamphlet contained was moving question marks in various colors and designs across the page. This, of course, appealed to Alex since he was always one to be curious.

While our mother worked as an Obliviator, our father was a Magical Law Enforcement Patrol Officer for the Ministry of Magic. Unlike my parents and brother, I had no desire to work for the Ministry. I hated the bastards. Well..."hate" wasn't exactly the proper word, but I strongly disliked them and, in my opinion, they were a very corrupted operation like any other politically-based outfit in existence.

A little bit after Alex had left, Samantha entered the compartment and took a seat across from me, right where Alex had been sitting. She was dressed in Muggle street clothes (a light-blue jumper, some khaki pants and a pair of navy blue Converse sneakers). Her wavy, dark blonde hair fell past her shoulders in beautiful light curls; her bangs swooped across her forehead and the sides of her hair feathered into her lightly-tanned, blushing face, shaping her square jawline beautifully.

"Honestly, you never pull your nose out of that thing. Training up for your boyfriend now that he's out of hospital and ready for some hot, sweet lovin' from his Slytherin mistress?" She smirked.

I gasped and lowered my book. I clapped a hand over my mouth, feigning shock.

"How did you _know_?" I exclaimed, marking my page ("_The Dangers of Long-Term Use of Polyjuice Potion_") and quickly closing my book.

"I've mastered the art of Occlumency over the last year." She grinned in her usual joking manner. "I've missed you, you dirty trollop! Why haven't you written?"

"I've been busy with my family and doing a bit of work at _Flourish and Blotts_ to pick up some money. I'm sorry that I haven't written to you in... in..."

"_Six_. Months. D'you know how heartbreaking that is for me? I thought I was your right-hand lover. Clearly I've been replaced by... by... _Family_! And _work_! _Hmpf_!" She crossed her arms and stuck her up-turned nose into the air.

I smiled at her; she broke character and giggled.

"How's _Flourish and Blotts_? I'm surprised I didn't see you at all when I'd visited there."

"I only worked three days a week. How often did you visit?"

"Well...like, twice. But that's beside the point!"

I rolled my eyes. "Twit."

"Old bitty."

"Knobhead."

"Tosspot."

"Inarticulate bubblehead."

"_Oohh_, that was _very_ Professor Snape of you."

"Thank you."

"Git."

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, you harlet. C'mere!" She stood up and opened her arms.

I stood up and embraced her, feeling happy to finally be with one of my few friends.

Hours later - I had no idea how many - we arrived at Hogwarts. It was already nighttime; the inky, velvety sky was scattered with millions of brilliant stars, and a beautiful moon was shining exceptionally bright overhead. Hagrid the half-Giant, who taught Care of Magical Creatures and was the gamekeeper, led the First years to the Black Lake while Second years and older went to the carriages that were pulled by Thestrals (invisible to those that had never watched someone die - I had never witnessed a death before, so in my eyes the carriages looked like they were pulling themselves). We rode the trail from Hogsmeade Station up to the giant, stone castle that contained many towers and stories that it'd nearly take an average person's entire lifetime to discover every secret, nook and cranny that the thousand years-plus castle contained.

Once arriving at the castle, we went through the main gates that looked the same as they had before the final war. We followed the stone path up to the main entrance, which led into a very large, open room that could have fit the entire school and a maybe the population of Hogsmeade in it at once. There was a flight of stone stairs off to the right of the room that led to the Great Hall, which was where all of the magnificent feasts were held and where everyone dined. The stairs in front of the entrance door led you to the main corridors where one could venture off to different classes, secret rooms, and the Grand Staircase.

To the far left of the room, there were two different doors. One led to the dungeons where Potions class and the Slytherin common room was located, and the other led to the basement where the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room were. Also, if one knew where to look, there was a secret passage that led from the basement into the Boathouse that was located out on the Grounds.

"Didja hear that Professor Lupin is back?" a Seventh year Gryffindor boy whispered behind Samantha and me.

"Yeah! He's also Head of Gryffindor House!" whispered another Seventh year Gryffindor.

"Wonder who's teaching Potions?" I muttered.

"Dunno. I know it ain't Slughorn," said Samantha.

"Thank God. I never liked him."

We entered the Great Hall, which was a room as large as the main entrance that was lined with four very long tables (one for each Hogwarts House). The staff table was elevated on a platform at the end of the room with all of the teachers and the Headmistress. All but two chairs were filled - Professor Lupin was not present, and I saw no sign of Professor Snape. The only unfamiliar face was the new Transfiguration teacher, who was a stout witch with red hair and a very friendly face.

Headmistress McGonagall, who was once Head of Gryffindor House and the Transfiguration teacher, sat in the middle of the staff in the chair that Samantha and I had always called "The Throne." During our previous year at Hogwarts, Professor Snape had been Headmaster on Dumbledore's (the previous Headmaster) orders. While many were outraged, people eventually warmed up to him leading the school. Some (Slytherins) faster than others (Gryffindors).

Once Samantha and I took our seats at the Slytherin table, we watched as the First years (which there were twice as many as usual) were led up to the front of the room where a small stool rested with a beat-up, patched wizard's hat perched on top of it. It was the school's old Sorting Hat, which was placed on top of your head and sorted you into your House. It whispered into your ear as it went through your thoughts, then it would shout your House out to the school.

Professor Lupin, who looked to be in the best health that I had ever seen him in, stood in front of the school and called out each student's name. One by one little eleven and twelve year olds marched up to be sorted.

"Barker, Nick!" Lupin called from the long roll of parchment.

A timid-looking eleven year old with messy black hair took a seat on the stool and had the hat placed onto his head.

"_RAVENCLAW_!" the hat shouted.

Everyone in the hall, especially the Ravenclaw table, erupted into loud applause.

"Barnes, Loki!"

A tall boy with blond hair walked up and took a seat. The hat went over his head and within seconds it shouted, "_SLYTHERIN_!"

There was an outbreak of very loud applause from our table. Loki got off the stool and walked toward our table, and took a seat next to a couple of Fifth year boys.

After the sorting, Headmistress McGonagall gave a speech about the rebuilding of the castle. She toasted to Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley (who all had returned to take their N.E.W.T.S.) in honor of their noble work in bringing down the Dark Lord. After the toast, McGonagall gave another toast to the staff members that played part in the downfall of the Dark Lord, and when she dropped Snape's name, Samantha nudged me and made dirty, sexual hand gestures that earned her glares from some of the prissy girls at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables.

Then her speech droned on to toasting to the dead... Then she finally welcomed everyone that was returning, and those that were there for their first year. She warned us about the Forbidden Forest, and told us to mind the caretaker, Argus Filch, and give him no grief, even though most of the student body was going to anyway. Finally, after what seemed like hours of endless rattling, the feast began. There were hundreds of silver platters lined with chicken, treacle tart, roasted potatoes, yorkshire pudding, ham, turkey, spaghetti bolognese, roast beef, lamb shanks, bubble and squeak, yams - it was hard to keep track of everything.

While the food was mouth-watering, and from what I had seen of the castle at that point in time, it all looked the same as it had before. Still, the absence of Professor Snape concerned me, and it was all that I could think about while I stared up at the staff table, ignoring different classmates that tried to speak to me ("How was your year, Geller?", "All right there, Luc?", "Lucy! It's been _too_ long! What've you been up to?"). There were a few times that Samantha had snapped at a couple of particularly annoying Sixth years that wouldn't stop cracking jokes about my zombie-like, unfixed stare at the empty chair next to Professor Lupin.

After dinner, Headmistress McGonagall gave a final few words and sent us off to bed. Classes would begin the following morning and I knew that being in my final year meant having to study harder than I had ever done so in the past. Yet while I laid in our dorm that night, tossing and turning in my four-poster bed that was right across from Samantha's, all I could think about was where Professor Snape was, and if he was okay wherever he was.


	3. The Mysterious Gaze

A/N: For starters, WOW! I'm very happy with all of the positive feedback I've received thus for with this story. Thank you to everyone that has given this story a chance and reviewed it. If I could, I'd send you all Honkeyduke's Best Chocolate and Severus kisses (hehe), but since I cannot do that, I'll just leave it at a "thank you."

Also, I must apologize for the minor delay. Work is a bitch and I run short on inspiration when I'm stuck dealing with real-life dunderheads instead of fictional ones. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this part! The man you've all been waiting for is FINALLY here and he's ready for some lovin'! ...well, almost...

* * *

><p>The following morning was just a premonition of how the rest of my day was most likely to go - well, so I thought. First evidence: I woke up to Samantha going through her trunk very loudly, cursing everything inside it because she couldn't find her school ties (all students were required to wear ties with their House colors on them). After spending five minutes helping her sort through all of her junk, we managed to recover one of her ties.<p>

The next thing was missing my opportunity at first dibs at a shower. Harley the Harlot (as Samantha and I liked to called her, because she was a whore that had fooled around with many of the boys in our year) used a jelly-legs jinx on me so she could get in there before I stood a chance. I got my revenge though - I conjured some leeches and frogs in the shower while she was halfway through what I guessed was her shampooing cycle, because she ran out of the bathroom in a very short towel, shampoo running from her red hair, screaming.

Of course... Harley the Whore Wonder retaliated at breakfast. Both squeaky clean and our spirits rather high despite the minor set-backs, Samantha and I went up to the Great Hall to have breakfast with the other students and were met with a horrid surprise when we went to reach for some delicious-looking green apples that were in a bowl in front of us. When we had bitten into them, there were several worms crawling inside of them, and a few seats down from us we could hear that bitch snickering with her friends.

"We'll get her back," Sam whispered to me as she waved her wand to dispose of our disgusting apples.

Professor Lupin walked over and handed us our course schedules like a dear. When he gave me mine, he smiled and leaned down by my ear.

"Lucy, I'm so happy to see you came back! Would you like to join me for a bit of tea after classes?"

"Of course, Professor. That sounds lovely." I smiled at him.

He grinned, then nodded brightly to Samantha before going back down the line of students to give them their schedules.

"Ew. I've got Double Divinitation. Kill me...please. Trelawney's a bloody nightmare," Samantha whined.

"I've been telling you to drop out, but do you ever listen?" I muttered as I viewed my schedule.

_Advanced Charms: 9 - 10 AM  
>Advanced Herbology: 10:15 - 11:30 AM<br>Lunch Period: 11:30 - 12:30 PM  
>Advanced Transfiguration: 12:45 - 1:45 PM<br>Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts: 2:00 - 2:45 PM  
>Double Advanced Potions: 3:00 - 5:00 PM<em>

"Look! We've got double Potions. We'll see if Professor Snape is teaching," I whispered to Sam.

She scowled at our schedules.

"I'm starting to wish that I'd made it into Transfiguration... While you're learning how to transfigure yourself into an animal, I'm gonna be stuck in Trelawney's creepy tower, trying to predict someone's death..."

We both shuddered.

"C'mon, Sam. We should probably get to Charms." I put my schedule away and stood up, her following my actions.

"Hope I don't blow anything up on the first day back. The last three years I've managed to blow something up..." She seemed a bit dazed as she followed me out of the Great Hall.

"I swear you're related to Seamus Finnigan," I muttered as we reached the Grand Staircase.

* * *

><p>Classes were...hard. Charms with Professor Flitwick weren't so bad, but producing a Disillusionment charm wasn't the easiest thing in the world for some of our classmates. I did it correctly on the third try, but Samantha had a bit of a tough time because she didn't wave her wand properly. A Hufflepuff boy managed to make his head disappear while the rest of his body remained very visible.<p>

Samantha managed to get Harley back in Herbology. We had class with the Ravenclaws, who were always rather nice to work with because they always seemed to be the ones with their heads on straight. ...usually, anyway. So, we were working with some type of flower that had an odor that could make your hair fall out and your toenails curl up into your skin, when Samantha decided to fling a bit of the goo that the flower produced into Harley's hair, which nobody else seemed to notice.

Harley didn't notice the flower's goo until the middle of our lunch break when she discovered that the gut-wrenching stench was coming from herself. She had screamed and caused a big scene in the Great Hall in front of everyone, making a right fool of herself. Professor Lupin settled her down with some chocolate and a quick cleaning spell; on his way back to the staff table, I could have sworn I'd heard him snickering...

During breakfast and lunch, I had noticed that the seat next to Professor Lupin remained empty. My spirits were growing lower by the hour as all hope of my favorite professor being back fizzled. I didn't blame him for not coming back.

After Transfiguration, which dragged on for what seemed like hours, Sam and I attended Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Sam wasn't as wild over Gryffindors as I was - well, "open minded" was the more appropriate word. While I agreed that some were big-headed prats, some were really nice.

"Hermione! How are you?" I whispered to her as Samantha and I snagged the desk next to her's.

Hermione Granger, who was almost twenty years old and had grown from a bushy-haired little girl into a beautiful young woman, smiled brightly at us.

"Hey! I've been fantastic! Just been so busy with catching up on some of these books and getting back into the flow of classes again... I've studied over the last year to keep it all fresh, but it's just so different when you're actually back, you know? How have you two been? It's been way too long."

Sam was already about to fall asleep with drool dripping from her chin. I ignored her and smiled at Hermione.

"I've been pretty good. I'm so happy that you decided to come back! I knew you'd stay on top of your work, even outside of school. Your self-discipline has always impressed me, y'know."

She blushed at the compliment and smiled.

"Thank you. So... how's your cousin? ...Bane? I read his article in the _Daily Prophet_ about new defense techniques and found them to be quite practical." Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.

Like a flash of lightning, Sam's head was up and her full attention was on our conversation. I looked at her and rolled my eyes, then turned back to Hermione.

"Bane is doing wonderfully. He's thinking about writing a book about protecting yourself from Dark Magic... Y'know, 'Mione, he's been looking for some people work with. Think you'd be interested? You obviously know a lot."

She put her hand over her mouth as her eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

"_Oh_! I'd be _beside myself_ to help him! He's such a brilliant writer," she gushed.

_Oh great... Hermione and Sam both want Bane. Lovely._

Sam's eyes narrowed a bit as she sank back into her seat.

Hermione and I chatted back and forth about what we'd been up to until Professor Lupin arrived, so we immediately settled down and listened to his lecture about our N.E.W.T.S. (which we'd received from every other teacher) and read about some of the deadliest curses that had been invented by wizards.

* * *

><p>"I'm so nervous," I whispered to Sam as we sat down at our desks in the front row of Potions class. "What if the teacher is horrible? I <em>slaved<em> away over a hot cauldron and kept my nose _buried_ in my Potions book to keep this class and to stay at the very top of the marks, and I worked so hard to keep it all fresh... I think I'll go into a blind rage if we get a shitty teacher."

"Oh, relax, will you? You're getting worked up over nothing," she muttered as her eyes fixed on my right hand that held my quill, threatening to break it in two from the tension.

There was low mumbling and whispers around the room as all of the students gazed around at each other, seeming to grow restless at having to spend two hours down in the cold dungeons.

Suddenly the door flew open and everyone went silent immediately. My breath caught in my throat and I jumped with the rest of the class as the door slammed. The tall figure of Professor Snape marched to the front of the class; his long, black cloak flowed behind him elegantly as he moved. He stopped and turned swiftly, facing us with the same cold, black eyes and venom that seethed from his sneering face.

My mouth fell open a bit as I stared at him. Appearance-wise, he was at the healthiest that I had ever seen him. His hair looked cleaner, his skin managed to retain the healthy glow that it was gaining when I had seen him over a year ago in St. Mungo's, and he seemed to have put on a bit of weight so he wasn't as lanky as he had been in the past.

Everyone in class stared at him in shock. All of us knew about his memories (come on, it was Hogwarts - any secret was known by the entire school) and his role as a spy in the war. After several moments of deafening silence, it was broken by a faint echo in the corner of the class - it was a Slytherin boy by the name of Jeremy Oliver that stood up, beginning to clap. Slowly, the rest of the class stood and joined him as we applauded the return of our Potions Master, who seemed put off by our sudden display of appreciation.

"Settle down and take your seats," he said in the velvet voice that haunted my dreams at night. "Your pitiful attempts at sucking up will do you no good in this class. Your other professors may be insolents that tolerate such behavior, but there'll be none of that here."

He moved swiftly across the elevated stone floor where his desk and cauldron were. We took our seats and watched him attentively.

"Now...if you dunderheads have finished your poor attempts at flattery, I am going to make myself clear and say this only once: I am here to teach you and prepare you for your N.E.W.T.S., and I expect you _all_ to achieve nothing short of an 'O'. If you do not intend to give this subject one-hundred percent, leave this class now and don't waste my valuble time." He stared at the silent class, his cold eyes boring into every student individually.

All except me.

I stared up at him, feeling a chill go up my spine in his presence. I could just feel the power radiating off of him - he was strong again, and he seemed to be back in full force. Gazing up at him, my heart raced at the thought that those hands (which were, at that moment, occupying themselves with sliding along the side of his wooden desk as he made his way around it to take a seat) had once touched mine (okay, it was only one hand, but it still counts), and I had kissed his cheek and lived to tell the tale (even though I had told no one - yes, that includes Sam).

He launched into one of his famous beginning-of-class lectures about the use of the potion that we were to brew, and how important it would be... Okay, I wasn't fully listening and managed to nearly mess up the entire potion because my mind was clouded by the sweet sounds of his silky voice and the elation of having him back, alive and healthy, as our teacher. However, there was one thing that bothered me...

He didn't look at me. Not once.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor Snape gliding fluidly over to a short, trembling Gryffindor boy with sandy hair and violet eyes that was a row behind me.

"Mr. Spall, I see you still haven't learned the metric system. Five points from Gryffindor for your ignorance and wasting my time." Professor Snape waved his wand, cleaning up Geoff Spall's mess.

Professor Snape walked away and checked a Slytherin girl's cauldron; behind me, I heard Hermione whisper, "I told you it was _three_ ounces of shredded boomslang skin, not _four_..."

"Miss Granger, is it necessary for you to _always_ chirp instructions into the ears of inarticulate bumbles such as Mr. Spall? Two points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all," Professor Snape said without looking back at her, continuing his way up to the front row of the class.

I slowly looked back at Hermione and gave her a sympathetic look. She sighed and slowly shook her head. I heard Sam snickering quietly next to me; I nudged her with my elbow and turned forward to stare into my cauldron at the bubbling, purple liquid.

"Time is up. You all should have concocted a perfect draught if you have followed the instructions on the board and in your textbooks properly. Bottle your draught and put it on my desk. Your homework is on the board." He waved his wand as he made his way behind his desk, not bothering to look at anyone in the class.

"You go ahead of me," I whispered to Sam. "I'm going to try to be last. Maybe I can talk to him..."

"You're barking mad, but good luck," she muttered as she shot a glance at Professor Snape. "Try not to get hexed."

"Thanks," I whispered, briefly glancing up at our surly professor.

I dawdled with bottling the purple potion, watching everyone quickly place theirs up on his desk; he glanced up at all of them, giving them a look as deadly as a basilisk's if they dared to linger in his presence for more than a second...

Finally, after a Gryffindor girl placed her potion on his desk and nearly ran out of the room (oh the irony...), I made my way up to his desk, feeling my stomach churn from anxiety and fluttering butterflies.

As soon as the bottle came in contact with the wood on his desk, his hand quickly waved through the air; the classroom door slammed shut, causing me to jump. His head raised from staring down at his parchment that he had been writing on, and he locked eyes with me. His stare was intense and far from the one of the injured man that I had seen in hospital over a year ago.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to slutter out a coherent sentence. My mind was drawing blanks under his sharp gaze. His cold, black eyes were like endless tunnels of midnight sky and seemed to hold the most mystery about him.

I could hear my own heartbeat pounding painfully against my hollow chest. His eyes slowly scanned mine, not once breaking contact. My stomach was twisting in knots, and my brain seemed to have fried every functioning circuit.

Then, I caught something. There was a spark in those dark pools of mystery. There was a certain...aura about them - like he was curious (or maybe it was just my over-active imagination), yet tried to swim away from it.

Finally, he waved his hand again and the classroom door opened. He slowly broke contact and looked back down at his parchment, as if I weren't even there. I stared at him for a few moments, confused, and slowly backed away from him.

* * *

><p>"Where were you after Potions? I waited for you in the Great Hall, but you never showed up! Did Snape yell at you or something?" Sam asked me as soon as she found me on my bed in our dorm.<p>

"No, no he didn't... I just wasn't hungry. Sorry I kept you waiting." I looked up at her from the book I had balanced on my knees.

I had decided immediately that I wasn't going to tell her about the stare down between Professor Snape and myself. While I couldn't make sense of it, I sure in the hell didn't want her throwing about her strange accusations and theories.

"Oh. Well, Snape has that effect on people. Makin' 'em lose their appetite and all..." She snickered and kicked off her shoes.

I scowled down at my Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

"Hey, didn't you have tea with Lupin? Tea that I wasn't invited to? How'd that go?"

I glanced up at her in time to see her pulling off her robes to get changed into her pajamas.

"Tea was fine. He asked about how classes were and asked what I thought of him teaching again. He talked about Tonks and Teddy, and gave me chocolate."

"Lucky. I want chocolate from sexy Lupin..." She pouted, making me roll my eyes.

"You're a nutter, y'know it?"

"Says the one that's in love with Snape." She snickered.

"I am _not_ in love with him!" I glared at her as I roughly closed my book.

"Oh, _please_! I saw the way you were drooling over him in class! You admitted to your crush, Luc. Just admit that it's finally _beyond_ that!"

"It's _nothing_!" I argued, trying to be the sensible one. "It's a silly little school girl crush that'll go away eventually."

"You visited him in _hospital_. You got him a _gift_! That says quite a bit, y'know." She smirked.

"Oh, piss off..." I grumbled as I opened my book again.

"Lucy Snape... Lucy _Selena_ Snape. Y'know, your name flows pretty well with his last name."

"Sam, stop your babbling before I hex the daylights out of you," I said in a dangerously calm voice.

"Alright, Mrs. Professor Snape." She cackled as she finished changing into her pajamas.

I rolled my eyes and closed the curtains around my bed to have more privacy. After a few minutes of silence, I closed my book and laid back on the bed, thinking back to Professor Snape and the way he had been staring at me. Why did he do it?


	4. Supermegafoxyawesomehot

_A/N: Sorry I've been dragging my feet with an update. Real life is annoying. Also, I've got other stories spinning around in my usually empty head, so stay tuned for more Sevilicious goodness. Thank you to everyone that has read, reviewed, and favorited this story. I adore all of you._

* * *

><p>It had been a week since classes had resumed, and so far things had been relatively normal. ...except for the fact that my bloody Potions master hadn't spoken to me or even <em>looked<em> at me since our little stare-down on the first day. When I'd raise my hand to answer his questions, he'd call on someone that didn't even have their hand raised. He didn't even _look_ at me when he gave me back my grades for my assignments!

I asked Samantha and Hermione if they had ever been stared down by Professor Snape the way I had been (of course, I didn't tell them that it happened to me, I just said it _hypothetically_ and asked what their reactions would have been), and they both said "no." It was frustrating, but I had other things to worry about - between the mountains of homework, the constant war between Sam and Harley, and Robbie's flooding of letters - the butterflies fluttering in my stomach and the gloomy mood at the thought of Professor Snape and his ignoring me had to be pushed to the back of my mind. Irregardless, I still couldn't help but wonder why he had stared at me that way. Was it a warning?

* * *

><p>Friday afternoon was rainy and unseasonably cold. Sam and I were in our final class of the day, Potions; Harley was, unfortunately, attending with us as well (much to Sam's discontent), and she had made sure to get a seat at the desk right next to ours to cause Sam even more grief than usual. Yes, she had taken to only targeting me when she was either bored with Sam, or just to further irritate her. I was getting rather annoyed with their constant back-and-forth when they could have been putting their time to more valuable use such as...paying attention in class? Especially Professor Snape's - we were in <em>his<em> House, for Merlin's sake!

"Ms. Anderson, is it necessary for you to show your display of ignorance in my class by not paying attention when I address you, or am I wasting _both_ of our times?" Professor Snape stood in front of the harlot's desk and glared down his hooked nose at her.

Harley, who had been so engaged in staring Sam down, looked like she was about to jump right out of her skin when he called on her.

"I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." She gave him her fake, sugar-sweet smile.

Professor Snape narrowed his cold, black eyes into menacing slits.

A small smirk threateningly hovered my lips, fighting with all its might to break loose. I remained neutral, not wanting to face the wrath of Severus Snape. I knew he was a very temperamental person - he had managed to blow up at two different Gryffindors after they nearly melted a hole in the bottoms of their cauldrons, all the while Hermione was attempting to whisper some instructions into their ears to help reverse the mistakes they had made.

"Oh, but of course you won't. You've never given me a reason to never believe the dribble that comes out of your mouth, Ms. Anderson. What ever was I thinking?"

_Yes!_ I thought. _Patronize her, Professor Snape!_

Harley, being the twit she was, merely grinned at him like a conceited slut.

"We all make mistakes, Professor. Even those as..._brilliant_ as you." She smirked.

_Shut up before I hex you so badly you won't even know what your own name is!_

Professor Snape's lip curled into a malicious smile. He stared down at her with the eyes of a madman. Harley shrunk in her seat, nearly quivering under his piercing glare.

"_Insolent girl_," he said in a low, silky voice that was always a warning for one to go running for the hills. "While I doubt your Potions work can improve much beyond a 'D,' I think an attitude adjustment is in order."

Harley's eyes widened while everyone in the class stared at her in silence. ...except for Sam, who was quietly snickering into her hand.

"Detention, Ms. Anderson. ...and detention for you as well, Ms. O'Hara. See me after class to arrange your punishments." He eyed both of them, not once glancing at me, before he gracefully swooped up to his desk.

"...bloody bastard," Sam whispered. She turned toward me and added, "Your boyfriend's in a bad mood. He needs to get laid."

"_Shhh_!" I whispered while nudging her. "Do you want detention with Filch or something?"

"No. I want kinky detention with Professor Snape, just to make you jealous." Sam rolled her eyes.

I shot her a glare before turning away from her to focus on my potion.

* * *

><p>That evening, I was sitting in the common room with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework on my lap while my mind was as far away from the subject as possible. Though I knew it was silly, my mind <em>still<em> continued to wander to Professor Snape. I so badly wanted to confront him about his staring, and why he had been ignoring me, but I hadn't a clue how to approach a man like him (and I was terrified out of my wits at the thought of his reaction). The thought of writing him a letter crossed my mind, but it was a rather cowardly thing to do ...and he would have probably taken away House points (though it rarely happened because he usually found any excuse he could to avoid deducting points from his own House), and it really did seem silly. Asking him after end-of-day classes probably would have resulted in hexing, especially if he were exceptionally short-tempered after having class with First years before the N.E.W.T. class.

I was picturing a fairy tale-like scenario involving him telling me that he had been staring was because he had noticed that I grew into a brilliant woman, and he wanted to take me on his teaching desk, and lavish my body with his tongue (...), when I felt a sudden weight next to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned my head and fixed my glazed, hazel eyes on Sam, who was staring at me with a hardy smirk.

"Your lover gave Harlequin Harlot a month's detention with Filch. She has to spend the next six weekends following him around the castle, too. Isn't it great?" She beamed.

My eyes widened.

"You're kidding! I mean, I've heard him give out nasty punishments before, but that one has _got_ to be one of the worst ones yet. What about you?"

She shrugged.

"I gotta scrub cauldrons Monday night. After that, I'm off the hook. Harlequin is absolutely _furious_ - it's _great_!" She let out a giddy squeal that she appeared to have been holding back since receiving the news.

I smirked a bit, not quite as humored as she.

"Wonder what ol' Filch'll do to her in detention..." I twisted my finger around the tip of my quill.

"Cleaning up most of the messes, most likely. Probably gonna make her scrub bed pans in the Hospital Wing, too." Sam's grin widened. "Oh, how I wish I could be the one to decide what she does... I'd make her feed grindylows. It'd be _hilarious_!"

"Ha...yeah. Hysterical." I looked down at my homework and chewed on my lip.

"You alright, Luc? You seem down."

"I'm fine. Just really tired. Lupin's asking for a thirteen inch roll of parchment for this assignment, y'know... I think I'm gonna go to bed." I closed my book and slowly looked into the ebony stone fireplace. "Yeah...bed."

I stood up and collected my things while Sam remained still, appearing to be confused.

"Okay. ...sleep well, Luc." She gave me an odd look as I nodded at her, hurrying off to our dorm.

Once shutting the door, I put my things away in my trunk before laying back down on the bed. I sighed, fixing my gaze on the emerald-green curtains on my four-poster bed. It was still early - only eight - but I felt no desire to stay down there to listen to Sam go on about Harley. There were some days where I truly believed that Sam and Harley seemed to have been harboring sexual tension for each other. Sam always said she was straight, but hey... Sam was always known to lie to avoid anything that she didn't want to discuss.

Putting them out of my head again, my thoughts wandered back to Professor Snape. I scowled, frustrated at not understanding what happened between us. Also, my hormones were still a bit dodgy and I was sexually frustrated after seeing how unworldly gorgeous he was in class.

"That's it," I whispered. "I'm going to confront him after class on Monday."

* * *

><p>The following morning, I was greeted in the Great Hall by my Eagle Owl named Dimitri. He was nibbling on Sam's toast while she stroked his silky, dark feathers, carefully avoiding the letter that was attached to his leg.<p>

"When'd he get here?" I asked as I sat next to her.

"Probably in the last couple of minutes. Looks like you gotta letter from Bane." She grinned.

"I'm surprised you didn't tear it open," I muttered as I took the letter from Dimitri and fed him a strawberry from one of the fruit bowls.

"Give me some more credit than that! Now, what's it say?" She grinned as she practically leaned on my shoulder to get a glimpse of his writing when I unrolled the parchment.

_Lucy,_

_How's Hogwarts? I'm sure you're enjoying being back with all of your friends, and getting to read more about Defense and Potions. You know, you could probably make a great Auror! I know, you don't like the Ministry much, but I'm just throwing it out there... How's Alex? I haven't heard anything from him and wasn't sure if he'd gotten my owl._

_Got a story for you, Luc. Your beloved boyfriend stopped by my place yesterday -_

"Oh no!" I groaned.

_- to deliver a message to you to give to your Potion's master. He said, "Tell that sorry, greasy git that he'll wish he hadn't lived if he hurts my bird." Quite a charmer you got there, Luc. He's a keeper. But, my dear cousin, what could have made him make such a comment? Hmm?_

I scowled while Sam snorted.

_Sorry to cut this short, but your owl is being temperamental right now. He's quite a sassy creature, you know it? Sorta reminds me of one of my colleagues here at the Prophet. Except he doesn't reek of gillywater and doesn't wear bright colors that make your eyes want to explode in their sockets._

_Write back when you can - tell me about what's going on there!_

_Love,  
>Bane<em>

"Your cousin is _so hot_," Sam said in an obnoxiously day-dreamy voice.

"Gross," I murmured, cringing at the thought of her clinging to his arm. "Hermione's into him, I think..."

Sam groaned. "No way! She can go find herself a _different_ man! Bane's _mine_."

I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever."

"He's so hot... Like... super hot." She grinned. "He's _supermegafoxyawesomehot_."

I raised my eyebrow. "Super...what?"

"_Supermegafoxyawesomehot_!" Her grin widened. "Pretty suiting for him!"

"Oh...Merlin..." I rolled my eyes and shifted my gaze over to the staff table.

There were only four professors having breakfast: Headmistress McGongall, Professor Vector, Professor Lupin, and, to my heart's delight, Professor Snape.

"...hey...what's that word you used? _Superawesomemetatronhotness_?" I asked as my eyes rested on my favorite professor.

Sam scoffed.

"_Supermegafoxyawesomehot_. Is that how you're going to address Snape now?"

I looked at her smirking face and sneered in disgust.

"Keep your voice _down_!" I turned back toward the staff table.

Professor Snape sat there, stony-faced with perfect posture, eating his breakfast while a considerably perky Professor Lupin talked to him, speaking with the hand gestures of an Italian. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle - he looked so cute and grumpy! Even though, after many years of observation, being around him was like playing with fire when he was like that. I lowered my hand and furrowed my brow as I continue to stare at him; his hair was curtaining his lowered head, making him slightly resemble a large ink blot in his black-clad outfit. Professor Lupin awkwardly turned his head away and engaged himself in conversation with Professor Flitwick, who had just taken his seat on the other side of Professor Lupin.

I rested my head against my hand, keeping my gaze locked on Professor Snape. He was absolutely beautiful, I thought, in his own way: shoulder-length black hair, piercing black eyes, prominent nose, tall with wide shoulders... I shook my head, trying not to get lost in thoughts of lavishing his body. I sighed and adjusted my blurring vision so I saw him clearly one again.

He slowly raised his head and looked straight at me.

_Oh God! He's looking!_

I blinked a couple of times, allowing our eyes to meet for the first time since the first lesson of term. His cold gaze didn't seem as deadly as it was with everyone else, which raised another question in the back of my mind - I wondered if he knew about my silly little schoolgirl crush on him, be it through Legillimency or Sam's big mouth spreading it around. I bit my bottom lip seconds before he looked away, being pulled into a conversation with Professor Lupin and Professor Flitwick.

* * *

><p>It was after lunchtime when I saw Professor Snape again. Sam and I were on the Grounds to enjoy the dry weather, wryly glancing at the sky every so often as if we expected it to begin down-pouring with hail. We sat on a bench near the main entrance, giving us a pretty decent view of everything that was going on (a couple of First years trying to pelt each other with dungbombs, and witnessing a Fifth year Hufflepuff nearly being pushed into the Black Lake to tango with the giant squid were just a couple of things to list), and an easy escape in case anyone we didn't like decided to pester us - speaking of which...<p>

"Well, well... If it isn't the trolls themselves."

Sam and I looked up from her book, only to see Harlequin and her mate, Ivonka Polkiss (another Seventh year Slytherin girl), standing over us with their arms crossed. I heard Sam close her book loudly before she stood up, coming nose-to-nose with Harley. Ivonka took a couple of steps back, her waist-length, light-brown hair flowing behind her like a wizarding cloak.

"What do you want? Isn't it bad enough that we have to attend the same classes and sleep in the same room? I don't wanna see you anymore than I have to." Sam glared at her.

Harley's violet eyes danced with mischief; I drew my wand, having a bad feeling about what was coming next...

"Don't you know you shouldn't talk like that to me, O'Hara? I think _you_ need to be taught a lesson." Harley pulled out her wand and pointed it at Sam. "_Sanguinare Auribu-_"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Harley's wand flew from her grip before she could complete her hex (she was trying to make Sam's ears bleed); I pushed Sam out of the way, then backed Harley against the castle wall with the tip of my wand pressed to her jaw.

"You little wench," I hissed into her ear.

"Ms. Geller," purred a silky baritone voice that made my heart skip a beat, "release Ms. Anderson. _Now_."

I let go out Harley and stepped away from her, then turned around to face Professor Snape. He stood there, not looking at me, but fixing his gaze upon Harley.

"Well, Ms. Anderson. It seems you cannot keep yourself out of trouble, does it? You can add an extra week of detention with Mr. Filch to your schedule."

Harley, who seemed shaken by the quick turn of events, nodded as she stared at him with wide eyes.

"Get out of my sight," Professor Snape snapped. "Take Ms. O'Hara with you."

_Uh oh..._

Harley didn't waste any time with leaving; Sam was a bit more reluctant until Professor Snape shot her a glare that could have petrified a basilisk. Once she was several yards away, Professor Snape turned to leave.

"See me after class on Monday, Ms. Geller."

I watched him walk away, completely dumbfounded.

_Someone please explain to me what in the HELL is going on here!_


	5. Monday

_A/N: As usual, I'm terribly sorry that it takes me decades to update. My own real-life Professor Snape (a sugar-coated, sweeter version) has been keeping me occupied, along with my horrible job with the muggles. Thank you for your wonderful reviews! I love you all. Again, so sorry for the delay. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Being the overachiever that I was, I had completed all of my assignments on Friday night so I had the weekend to dawdle and obsess over my meeting with Professor Snape. It was silly to hope for, but I wondered if he would explain the staring, or at least say why he didn't give me a punishment when he caught me with <em>my<em> wand pressed to _Harley's_ cheek. Maybe years of being respectful and not interrupting his class had finally paid off? Perhaps, Sam being the big-mouth I knew she could be, mentioned my crush on the snarky professor to Hermione in passing and now it somehow got back to him and he wished to harass me? The questions were never-ending and I was exhausted by Saturday morning when I should have felt slightly refreshed from three hours of sleep the previous night.

* * *

><p>"Hey Geller, I heard your boyfriend's playing for the Appleby Arrows. That true?" a Sixth-year Slytherin girl named Cerys Shriver asked when I sat down next to Sam for breakfast on Saturday morning.<p>

"Yes, that's true," I responded in a polite tone, even though I was beginning to find it a bit irritating to have people constantly asking if the rumors were true - was Robbie Springfield _really_ a Beater for the Appleby Arrows? Yes, yes he was...you puddingheads.

"Wicked! Think I could get an autograph?" She grinned with such a sparkle of hope - that was so rare in Slytherin House. I really couldn't spoil it...it was almost touching. "I've been a fan since I was eight!"

"Sure," was my cool response.

_Let's inflate Robbie's ego some more. Go on, girls. Let's add the fuel to the fire. Let him know that you're willing to let him use you as a Quaffle, if you want. Let's start a complete fire across our tiny island... make him think he's the best thing the wizarding world has seen since Albus Dumbledore._

Ceyrs absolutely _glowed_ as she turned back to whisper to her group of mates.

"Just wait until you're _Mrs_. Robbie Springfield," Sam whispered to me after Ceyrs turned away to chat with her mates.

"I don't think so."

"Why not? Don't you want to marry a rich Quidditch player? Have lots of sex and babies?" She smirked as she stabbed a plump sausage with her fork.

I snorted. "Hand Robbie a shiny Galleon and he'll have it spent faster than you can blink. I would _never_ marry Robbie. He's...Robbie."

"That's what my mum said about my dad and they still got married."

"Didn't they divorce ten years ago?"

"...oh yeah!"

I rolled my eyes. "You can be such a doof sometimes, Sam."

"Blame the daddy issues." Sam shrugged as she reached for her goblet of pumpkin juice.

Daddy issues. That's probably what the mad muggles would blame as the reason for my crush on Professor Snape, even if I did have a good relationship with my father. Silly psycho-... psyche... psychopathic mumbo jumbo. You know, where they think they can "read" minds? Muggles always come up with such silly things.

I shrugged as well and poured a cup of coffee, only to have my attention turned away from the dark energizer to see hundreds of owls flying overhead with various packages and parcels and envelopes. A scarlet envelope dropped onto a poor Third year Gryffindor student's plate that was heaping with eggs and toast. A Howler. They were great when they weren't for you.

"_Ooohh_!" a Slytherin girl croaked. "Watson's got a Howler!"

I smirked, only to have it wiped off my face when a letter from Robbie fell on my plate. Dimitri landed on my shoulder, nearly knocking me sideways from the sudden dropping of his larger body and weight. He rubbed his soft head against my cheek and nibbled my ear affectionately.

"Thanks, Love. Have some food." I lowered my shoulder to the table; he leaped onto the table and dipped his beak into my cup of coffee.

I shrugged again - Hagrid always gave his boar hound, Fang, a keg... what's the difference if my owl had some coffee? He needed energy, too.

"Who's it from?" Sam asked as she pointed at the letter in my hands with her fork.

"Three guesses." I opened the envelope, receiving a massive paper cut when Watson's Howler started shouting throughout the Great Hall -

"_DANIEL RUPERT WATSON. YOUR FATHER AND I FOUND THIRTEEN 'BITCHIN' HAGS' MAGAZINES UNDER YOUR BED. DON'T THINK YOUR SAD ATTEMPT AT A DISILLUSIONMENT CHARM WOULD KEEP THEM HIDDEN FROM US, LAD. JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU COME HOME, DANIEL. YOU'RE IN THE WORLD OF TROUBLE!_" There was a pause - Watson was pale white and trembling. The Howler turned itself to face the Hufflepuff table.

"_Yvonne, congratulations on getting into Hufflepuff. Try not to be a such a weasel like your brother._" The Howler turned back to Watson, "_We'll speak later, Daniel._"

The Howler ripped itself up and fell to the table in little shreds of red and white paper.

_Merlin. That woman's as Bi-Polar as Mrs. Weasley._

The entire Hall, excluding some very horrified and unamused teachers (Professor Snape included), burst into uproarious laughter. Sam seemed ready to bust a gut.

"Blimey, that was great!" she managed to choke out.

"Yeah...brilliant." I opened Robbie's letter, feeling a groan building up in my throat.

Sam tapped my shoulder and whispered into my ear, "Come on, Lucy, let's get out of here. Some girls are leering at that letter. I think they want something signed by a famous Quidditch-player..."

"Fine." I resealed the envelope and waited for Sam to get up.

* * *

><p>We ended up wandering down a deserted corridor that led toward the Astronomy Tower, which seemed like a decent place to read Robbie's babbling.<p>

"What's it say?" Sam rested her chin on my shoulder to stare at the letter as I, once again, pulled his letter out to read it.

"Something about Quidditch, I'm sure," I said bitterly.

His untidy scrawl was written in pale blue, one of the Appleby Arrows' team colors. I rolled my eyes and read his message -

_Hey Kitten  
><em>  
>-<p>

"'Kitten'?" Sam snorted.

"Shuddup."

_Totally bummed that you still haven't left Hogwarts. Wish you would... get away from those old tossers and hang out with ace (young) people here in Appleby. You'd like it here, Luc... Lots of Quidditch! Of course, you may want to do some sort of stupid thing like read or brew... But we'll get you out of that bad habit!_

_I am, of course, the best Beater on the team. They can't believe how lucky they are to have me here! Just yesterday they locked me in a room with a Blast-Ended Skrewt with only my Beater's bat to ward it off. Ha! Tricksters. I showed them... I clobbered it to the death._

My jaw dropped in complete horror. A Blast-Ended Skrewt was locked in a room with Robbie? I actually felt sorry for it. Sam, on the other hand, was laughing her head off.

"What a blooming idiot!" She laughed. "Sounds like Robbie's Billy No-Mates."

"And he doesn't even realize it."

_So, Kitten, when you gonna come see me? How bout when you take one of those stupid Hogsmeade trips you apparate here to Appleby and we shake my bed springs a bit, eh? We've been together for a year...bought time for some arse-slappin and humpin, yeah?_

"Horrible bloke, ain't he?" Sam whispered.

"Typical young male..." I squinted my eyes at the rest of his letter -

_Shame, innit? Had you come with me instead of going back to school with your brother, we coulda been havin sex right now. Oh well... Come see me soon, Kitten._

_xo, your Fierce Dragon,_

Robbie

"Idiot." I crumpled up the piece of paper and lit it on fire without uttering an incantation and foolish wand-waving.

"_Jesus_!" Sam exclaimed as she pulled out her wand; she gave it a quick wave and said an incantation to put out the small fire that was on the stone floor. "Watch it, Lucy! You're going to get us in trouble. We don't want Snape yellin' at us this early on a Saturday."

"He won't need to yell at you because I will," came a wheezy voice from behind, making Sam and me nearly jump out of our skins.

We quickly turned around and faced Mr. Argus Filch, School Caretaker and Squib-Extraordinaire, with his newly-assigned assistant, Harley the Harlequin Harlot Wonder. Harley, who was usually dressed in nice-looking robes when she wasn't in school uniform, was wearing some of the rattiest and shabbiest robes I'd ever seen - even worse than Professor Lupin's.

"Anderson, clean up that mess. Remember... if I catch you waving a wand or even getting a _whiff_ of magic, it's back to refiling the Weasley twins' years of unforgivable crimes to the school in alphabetical order..."

The slag rolled her eyes and took the old, molding broom from Filch's hand and started sweeping up the ashes while Sam and I stepped to the side, watching her work with matching smirks.

"If I catch either of you two guttersnipes starting more fires and shouting about in the halls, I'll be sure to present Headmistress McGonagall with an argument to bring back the old methods of punishment that I _know_ she wouldn't dismiss..." He turned his beady eyes toward Harlequin.

"Anderson! Let's move along. Mrs. Norris' litter box needs cleaning and _you're_ going to do it. The salmon fillets the house elves made last night gave her a case of the trots, so I'd plug my nose if I were you..." A malicious smirk grew on his thin, cracked lips as he led a sour-faced Harley down the corridor.

Once they were out of ear-shot, Sam and I dropped to our knees on the floor and laughed until we were blue in the face.

"Bet there's shit _everywhere_!" Sam exclaimed. "Hope someone gets a bad case of the runs soon... Then she'll have to clean the bed pans and their trousers. I'd be willing to pay that Creevey kid a few Sickles to go take pictures of her face!"

"I may throw in a few Knuts to see that..." I snickered and helped Sam to her feet.

"There you two are," said Alex as he approached us. "I've been looking everywhere for you guys!"

"What'cha need, Alex? Contraceptive potions for the mystery bird?" Sam snickered.

Alex's ears glowed bright red as he fixed a scowl on his handsome face.

"_No_," he said firmly. "She doesn't even know I exist."

"Do you even know _her_ name?"

"Yes, I do!"

"What is it?"

"Sam, leave him alone," I said in a bored tone.

Sam was always hassling Alex about his secret crush. All we knew was that it was a girl in his year, but her House was unknown. That pretty much narrowed it down to about fifty different girls...

"Thank you," Alex whispered. "C'mon, let's go outside before it rains..."

* * *

><p>Monday finally arrived after a very slow-moving, boring Sunday. Classes were decent for the most part... The most exciting thing to happen was Harley hexing a Hufflepuff boy outside of Herbology class, resulting in a deduction of House points and a tongue-lashing from the otherwise gentle Professor Sprout. Sam and I had to hide our faces in our hands so we wouldn't draw attention to our chortling. Of course, Harley got her retaliation when she flung dragon dung at Sam, hitting her left ear - more points from Slytherin; you could bet Professor Snape was going to be really happy with us when he found out...<p>

Potions was the last class of the day, and it was also when I was going to see my dear and darling (...) professor after class, which had kept me up most of the previous night. It was rather difficult to focus in his class, especially with his silky voice purring instructions into my ears. Perhaps it was the long-term effect of no masturbation, but he looked extra fuckable that day.

_Focus, Lucy. _

Of course, Hermione was there to catch me right before I made a mistake that could have screwed up my entire potion. Sam was annoyed, but I was grateful. I would show Hermione my appreciate with my birthday gift for her - ten Galleons, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts theory book, some chocolate, and Bane's address so she could spend her Christmas break working with him on his book and getting better acquainted...however that may be, I didn't want to know.

After bottling a solution for sleep-apparation (instead of sleepwalking, some wizards would apparate to random places like Diagon Alley or the Atlantic Ocean.), I brought my phial up to Professor Snape's desk and left it next to the phials that students had turned in, then went back to my desk and dawdled with packing while I waited for the rest of the class to leave.

"Good luck," Sam whispered as she grabbed her bag to leave.

"Thanks..." I said quietly as I watched Professor Snape, who was seated at his desk with his nose buried in a book.

Once the rest of the class left, he waved his hand and the door slammed shut, locking itself. He lowered his book and stared at me.

Silence.

I bit my lip as I stared back at him, waiting for him to speak. After a few long seconds, he finally spoke.

"Ms. Geller," he said quietly, making me strain my ears just to hear him. "You are not in trouble."

_...what? So it's not about the confrontation... Maybe it's about the staring!_

"I-I'm not?" I stuttered stupidly.

"You are not... In trouble," he repeated, pausing for a moment in the middle of his sentence.

"Thank you, Professor," I said in a grateful tone.

"That's the first thing I wanted to let you know. The second..." He stood up from his desk, then slowly walked toward me with a thick, leather-bound book tucked under his arm.

"I want you to explain this." He dropped the book onto my desk, making it land with a loud _thunk_.

His cold eyes bore holes right through me; I swallowed hard and lowered my gaze to the book. The one I gave him when he was in St. Mungo's.

"I-It was a get well gift... and a small thank you," I said quietly.

He remained silent for a moment, his posture stiff as a board.

"Why...Ms. Geller...did you feel the need to bring me a petty little gift when I was content in my coma, dying in the hospital by myself?"

I shut my eyes, feeling fear's icy grip around my throat.

"B-Because, Professor, I didn't know how else to thank you for everything you've done... and I-I thought you'd be bored when you'd wake up, so I thought you'd like a new book to read."

"Thank me for what I've done? Protecting the Potter boy and being labeled as a murderer to add to my title as the 'Greasy Bat of the Dungeons'? The horrible, cold-heart bastard that nobody likes and hoped would be sacked, or even better... _dead_?"

"Professor," I said quietly, "I know you won't believe me...but I've never thought that way about you. I have always respected you and admired your work and teaching. You have always been my favorite teacher, even when the Dark Lord was about to take over our world and everyone doubted you. I was _always_ on your side."

He raised an eyebrow at me, giving me a scrutinizing look.

"Rubbish," he whispered. "Absolute rubbish."

He swept past me, making his way up to the front of the classroom where he leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not, Professor!" I exclaimed.

"Do _not_ speak to me in that tone, Ms. Geller," he growled.

I stared down at my desk, trying to compose myself.

"I'm sorry, Professor," I said quietly. "I just... I'm sorry."

"Save your apologetic babble," he said as he slowly walked toward my desk again. "Do you know who else visited me while I was in hospital, Ms. Geller?"

He stopped in front of my desk and placed his hands on either side of it. I slowly shook my head as I stared up at him.

He leaned down so his face was a few inches from mine.

"No one," he said in a low, bitter voice. "_Nobody_ came to see the old bat. Not even Headmistress McGonagall. So you must understand why I must wonder about you, of all people, dropping by baring a gift and a kiss."

My eyes widened, earning a malicious grin from him.

"Oh yes, Ms. Geller. I know what you did... I awoke to your inane babble. I believe those absolute dolts you associate with would have called it 'whispering sweet nothings' - yes?"

"I-I don't know, sir..." I whispered.

"Are you sure? Because I don't think you are." He leaned closer - his dark eyes were pulling me in and making me dizzy. "Why something as affectionate as a kiss on the cheek? What's your motive, Ms. Geller? Why do something nice for something so...evil?"

"You're not evil," I whispered. "I can see through the mask, Professor. You're a good man."

_That was one of the dumbest things you could say to him._

"Answer me," he whispered, taking another famous pause. "..._now_."

"I told you, Professor. I-...It was a get well gift, and a small thank you."

"I don't think that was it," he said in a dangerously low voice, causing me to shiver. "Trying to suck up, Ms. Geller? Just in case I did manage to not die in hospital, or kill myself, and came back to teach you dunderheads for all the years of my pathetic life?"

I could have cried. Really, I could have. This man that I loved...speaking that way. I kept myself together - Gryffindor courage, Slytherin determination. I would not run away like a frightened child.

"No, Professor. I w-was _not_ trying to 'suck up.'"

"Or is it something else, Ms. Geller? Do I make you feel..._curious_? Of everyone in Slytherin, _you_ were always the most well-behaved - never putting a toe out of line, even when things were getting more and more horrifying for your innocent eyes... When you see me, do you see all of the darkness that's inside of you? Does it make you wonder what it's like...to have a taste?" he whispered, his mouth so close I could feel his hot breath on my face.

His regular speaking voice alone could make my knickers wet, but speaking in such a low, coaxing tone... I was _drenched_.

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strange sound that resembled a moan and a strained grunt.

"Ta...Taste?" I whispered.

His face twisted into the grin of a mad man.

"Do you really respect me as much as you claim, Ms. Geller? Do I send chills of fear up that pretty little spine of yours?"

"Y-Yes, and...s-sometimes," I whispered, feeling more dizzy by the second.

_Where's he going with this? Why is the room spinning?_

"Tell me... why is that, Ms. Geller? Why do you fear me?" he asked quietly, his eyes lowering themselves briefly before raising to meet mine.

"Y-You're very powerful... a-and you're not s-someone to anger...or betray," I whispered, my eyes widening as I spoke.

"_Exactly_," he whispered, pulling his face away from mine so he could stand at his full height. "Leave."

I slowly shook my head, trying to bring myself back to earth.

"P-Pardon?" I stuttered.

"_Leave_," he repeated in a firmer tone. "Your presence is no longer required."

"Y-Yes sir..." I whispered, quickly standing and grabbing my bag. "Have a good night, Professor."

He said nothing in return; all he did was magically unlock the door. I didn't look back at him when I hurried out of his classroom - all I could do was repeat what happened in my mind and feel even more confused than the last two encounters with him.


End file.
